Romantically Devoid

Like a wondering eye going nowhere how romantically devoid.
An emotionless kiss on bloody lips, tastes of copper, feels of death.
Addiction in it's purest form, in every way it affects me.
Yet, it's him that is it's slave. I'm more of a temp worker.
I have no place in that life of his, I've already long past left.
He has no place in this life of mine, how awfully devine.
These silly repetitions seem to change in everyway,
through drugs and sex and lies.
This cigarette has found its way back into my shaking hand.
My lungs feel heavy again.
This stress is you, oh my loveless lover of no desire.
How did we get into this mess?
And oh, what cleaning it will take for me to scrub away these stains.
Lysol to kill the pain, and a bottle of bleach to forget your name.